


Observations of the Preferences

by circuit_breaker



Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: Other, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circuit_breaker/pseuds/circuit_breaker
Summary: This text is posted separately from the Archive because I want to keep that collection SFW.





	1. Observations of the Preferences

**Author's Note:**

> This text is posted separately from the Archive because I want to keep that collection SFW.

The sensation of sexual gratification makes my head hazy and light for a moment. Even so, I can see Racter’s eyes when he looks up to my face from between my thighs. He climbs on top of me, moving and looking like a smug feline.  
  
”You are terribly good”, I say and rest my eyes. ”And, to be honest, it’s a mystery to me. You aren’t interested in this to gain pleasure yourself, so why? Why are you doing this? It’s obvious that I’m not your first one, as well.”  
  
I look at him. His face is above mine, his gaze observing me intently.  
  
”I’ve always been curious of how different things work. As a result, I’ve taken things apart — both in the physical and the psychological sense”, he replies. I chuckle at that.  
  
”And sexual activities let you observe the other person as though they were — what? A machine, then?”  
  
”Yes… You could put it like that”, he says. ”Sexual activities take inputs which cause certain reactions. It’s a matter of using past knowledge, experimenting, analyzing the outputs, then iterating. It may be impossible to reach the perfect optimal approach, but wouldn’t you say that progress is more important than reaching a defined goal?”  
  
Oh, boy. This just keeps getting better and better.  
  
”That’s… Well, that’s an unusual answer, but you aren’t wrong there. Your words actually explain why you are good. You keep on monitoring the reactions of the other person, undistracted by the desire to fulfill your own sexual needs”, I say. ”However… It makes me wonder whether there are any ways to return the favor.”  
  
”You are still bothered by this arrangement, then?” he asks.  
  
”To be honest — a bit, even though you say that it is fine. I’m also curious, maybe in a similar fashion which you just described. I want to know how your mind works.”  
  
He moves off me, sits on the edge of the bed. Takes a cigarette and lights it.  
  
”Very well — you can make questions, if you like”, he replies after breathing out the first cloud of smoke.  
  
”Hmm. Is there any part in the metahuman body which is particularly attractive to you?”  
  
”The neck”, he answers without thinking.  
  
”That was quick”, I remark. ”The neck? What is so special about the neck, may I ask?”  
  
He turns to look at me. He crawls back on top of me, staring me straight into the eyes. There is a smile playing on his lips, but it’s the kind which a predator has while playing with its prey. His fingers touch my throat with gentleness.  
  
”Isn’t it obvious to you, my friend? Think of all the species which show their throats as a gesture of submission; the carnivores that attack the throats of their targets...”, he says. After that, he lowers his head and brushes his lips against my neck; the hand finds its way to my hair, moving my head so that my throat is more exposed. I blink but do not fight back.  
  
”Don’t tell me that you are a vampire or something”, I gasp.  
  
”I have a fascination to biting, but no — I am not a vampire, nor would I want to be one”, he says, touches my skin with his teeth slightly. It teases my senses. For some unknown reason, I’m intoxicated by this feeling of being under him (or Koschei), submitting to him, both physically and psychologically. I may be a leader for the most part, but romantically and sexually, I have a craving of being dominated… A surprisingly difficult mix.  
  
Memories come to my mind. All the times when my ex-lovers have started to question my leadership and professional skills, just because I’ve shared this side of me with them. I can’t even begin to describe how disappointed I felt due to the simplicity of their minds, how they confused activities in the bedroom chamber to life elsewhere.  
  
Racter, on the other hand — I’m glad that he manages to make the separation. His professional respect hasn’t shown any signs of becoming less after these sessions; and even now, when his lips trace my neck, I do not feel disrespected.  
  
I shiver and feel how he smiles against me.  
  
He lifts himself away from me and enjoys his cigarette.  
  
”Do you have any other questions?” Racter asks.  
  
”… I do, but — I confess that I find it hard to focus properly”, I say. These stimulations have taken their toll on me, and it’s a struggle to stay awake to have a thorough discussion. He understands this.  
  
”Very well. If you like, we can continue later. It’s wiser that you rest properly first — and, I could continue with my projects”, he says. Thus, I get up, clothe myself and leave his chambers to enter my own; after which I fall into a peaceful and relaxed slumber.


	2. To Be Trapped

I try to push against Racter’s fingers, but his other hand keeps me in place.  
  
“Stay still, or I will stop”, he warns from behind me, close to my ear. I can hear the smile displayed over his lips; and after that, I can feel it buried against the nape of my neck. My shoulders rise out of reflex; my breath wavers. To be exposed and brought close to the edge time after time, only to be teased without pushing me over the line – _that_ is a plain cruel situation, but also a situation which I desire.  
  
Koschei’s multiple eyes glow in the darkness. He has been like that, turned towards us, following the whole scenario with an undivided attention.  
  
He is a drone, I know. It shouldn’t matter whether he looks or not. However, his stare has an unbelievable influence over me, as though he is another lover in the room: watching how I writhe against Racter, naked; and how Racter, fully clothed save for one glove, is touching me with precise and controlled strokes. I have no doubt that Koschei can hear, as well – the sounds of wet surfaces of skin sliding against each other, my gasps, Racter’s playful chuckles.  
  
“If you are wondering – yes, he likes the view”, Racter says. “I have told you before that he would be interested in reproduction if such a thing was possible, have I not?”  
  
“But he can’t reproduce–“ I reply but stop because of a gasp escaping my lips.  
  
“He can’t, my friend – that is true, for many reasons. But he wants to dominate. Now, imagine being a creature whose whole being is wired for that; and seeing someone like you, usually collected and in charge – all vulnerable, begging to be taken… Like this”, he continues, after which his fingers change their movements, focusing on everything he knows that I like.  
  
An orgasm hits me quite soon afterwards. Even though it blurs my ability to analyze the surroundings, I can see how Koschei stays still, staring.  
  
I lean against Racter, dizzy-headed. He takes a hold of me and leads me to lie down on the mattress.  
  
“ _Now_ that you have a fresh memory of getting an orgasm, we could discuss the possibilities of artificial skin types. Did you know that scientists are developing a new material which allows you to feel with an _extreme_ precision – an artificial skin which surpasses greatly even the humble amount of sensors around your genitalia? You would surely be interested, especially since you have argued that biological vessels have _certain advantages_ over artificial ones..?”  
  
God damn it. I should’ve known that Racter suggested sex to gain an opportunity to push post-humanistic propaganda on me _again_.  
  
This is not the first time when something like this has happened.  
  
… And, considering my infuriating sex drive… Probably not the last, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone filmed / recorded me while I’m writing NSFW snippets, we would have a documentation of how many times I snort while writing that stuff (that would be… very many times).


	3. Shreds

“Are you being _this_ slow because you want to be careful – or are you trying to tease me?” I ask. Koschei is on top of me, and one of his blades tears the fabric of my shirt in a frustratingly unhurried pace.

“I am not afraid of losing the bet, if that is what you are asking”, Racter says. He sits a bit further from the desk, watching Koschei and me from the shadows. I can see only his silhouette and a line of smoke which reaches the dim lights above; but that doesn’t stop me from hearing the grin on his face.

“Teasing it is, then”, I grunt.

“You say it as if you didn’t like it, my friend. For some reason, I have a feeling that the reality is quite the opposite...”

I do not answer. Koschei’s blade slides barely above my skin, destroying my clothes but leaving my skin unwounded. I can still feel the soft touch of the blade, though. Strangely enough, the sensation reminds me of the days when I drew with ink; how I used to slide a pen nib against my finger. It was an oddly pleasant feeling.

I wonder how it would feel if Koschei’s touches left wet traces of blood behind. If Racter wins the bet, I won’t experience that this time.

“Mm, it seems like Koschei has discarded your shirt without causing any wounds. Do you finally acknowledge that he is as precise as a surgical drone?” Racter asks.

“And lose all that nuyen? No, Racter – we will continue.”

The rigger stands up and walks next to the desk. He looks down at me – glancing at my bound ankles and wrists. There is a playful smile on his lips, but his gaze seems analytical.

“I doubt that you ever were interested in money”, he states after he has observed me for a moment. “You can make radical moves and decisions sometimes, but you wouldn’t risk your well-being just because of a silly bet. You knew that I would win. You simply made an excuse to fulfill your desires.”

Koschei’s blade cuts my belt. The drone stops at that, and Racter keeps staring at me, waiting.

The whole scene seems to become still. Only the smoke of Racter’s cigarette keeps floating above me and Koschei: softly, calmly, silently. Inside me grows an unbearable tension, in turn.

“Fine!” I say. “Yes – you are right. Are you going to stop now because of that?”

“No. I was merely curious of your motives”, Racter says.

Koschei turns animated once more. My head twitches when his blade traces downwards–

– and stops again.

The rigger inhales smoke, after which he breathes it against my face. His head is really close to mine.

“However... You _do_ agree that it is rather, _hmmm_ , inconsiderate to trick me into sexual activities, making them seem like something else – yes? While this bet included the possibility of stripping you naked, there isn’t necessarily anything sexual about exposed skin... Many bets have the risk of making one embarrassed, to mention one thing.”

“What do you want?” I ask tensely.

“Oh, you have two options. You could compensate by doubling my reward; alternatively, you pay the original price and we stop right here.”

“Seriously?”

“I suppose that the answer is the latter, then?” he asks. Koschei begins to approach the ropes–

“No, no! Let’s continue”, I almost yell. Racter’s grin widens. Later on I’ll definitely regret making such a deal – paying that will require many runs – but _currently_ , my rational side is absent, replaced by the simple craving of the flesh.

“Good... Very good”, Racter says in a pleased tone. Koschei’s blade slides and uncovers the skin underneath my trousers – advancing faster than before. My past assumptions were correct: Racter was only teasing me by being so slow.

In the end, I lie on the table, surrounded by shreds of clothing and a murderous drone looming over my fragile form; and yet, all I feel is an overflowing state of arousal.

“Racter?” I ask, desperateness creeping into my voice. Koschei cuts me free.

“Our work is done here”, the rigger says. “You are free to–“ he stops, then shakes his head softly. “Well, you are quick”, he finishes, watching how I touch myself without any sign of shame or pride. That show doesn’t last long, though, as I was already close to an orgasm before I started. After a couple of strokes, a wave of pleasure washes over me.

It takes some time for me to regather my thoughts and sense of reality. However, when I hear Racter’s voice again, he is saying:

“... you happen to be interested, we could try to stimulate your cerebral cortex around the longitudinal fissure... That is, the deep slit in between your hemispheres. Scientists performed that kind of an experiment just recently. The test subjects – monkeys – became aroused when their brains...”

A normal individual would probably escape immediately – _that is, if they ever ended up in my position to begin with_ – but I?

 

I break into a breathless laughter.


	4. Fast and Slow

Racter slides in slowly. The movement is soft, just like his fingers exploring my back and the sides of my hips. The touches travel to caress my belly and, then, lower –

_oh_.

I feel how my upper body sinks and legs twitch. He, in turn, hums and continues in the calm rhythm. He is unusually silent… To be more precise, his whole workshop is unusually silent. I can hear the sounds our bodies cause: breathing, my heart beating, the bed creaking, him moving inside me – and soon, I can’t help the voices which escape my lips.

Racter turns my head, and _almost_ kisses me.

“My friend?” he asks after I dodged his approach.

“Cigarettes… You smell”, I manage to reply. He lifts himself back up.

“Now that you mentioned cigarettes… I would like to have a smoke”, he says with a hint of light, playful cruelness.

“You aren’t going to smoke while we are having sex”, I state with a frown. I hear a couple of clicks. “… Racter, _what_ are you doing?”

I’m about to twist my neck to look at him – only to notice that he steps right in front of me, a meter away or so.

While he is still inside of me.

My eyes go automatically down, but he is wearing pants. I look back up and see the frustratingly amused smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t be so impolite that I’d disrespect your simple wish. I’ll go smoke outside. You can finish this by yourself, yes?” he asks.

I’m about to form a reply… But that’s when that _thing_ inside of me starts to _vibrate_. My mouth opens but no comprehensible word leaves it, partially because of the surprise, but, most of all, because that dirty trick hits far too many sweet spots.

Racter climbs up the stairs, chuckling, and Koschei follows right behind him – and I’m left alone with my curses and moans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically nothing but a joke, but you could listen to [this gem by Julie London](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWZkRNEULi4).


	5. To Confuse Even Further

“You are confusing me a big time, Racter. Is it possible to satisfy you sexually or not?”

My words come out more tactless than I’d prefer, leaving me embarrassed. Blood rushes up to paint my cheeks with a striking hue of red. For a moment, I’m seriously considering diving underneath the blanket and pretending that I’m away — however, Racter’s head turns away from the blue lights of his displays too soon. Koschei stares at me, as well. It feels as if they can see every inch of me and even more, which is intimidating but also stimulating.

“Are you displeased with our sessions, my friend?” Racter asks.

“Rest assured, I _am_ satisfied... I do admit that these situations would be more enjoyable if I could please _you_ somehow”, I say while he just keeps looking at me without even blinking once. Can a person feel more exposed than this, with a thin piece of fabric covering one’s form from such piercing eyes?

“I have told you that no person has managed to excite me in that sense of the word”, he replies.

“Such funny words coming from the man of the future... You tell me of the past; but do you think that anyone could ever make an exception to that rule? Is there any possibility that you would find someone attractive?”

He turns on his stool to face me completely.

“Maybe”, he replies. “Or maybe not. Either way, I could remind you that you do not need to be attracted to metahumans in order to find sex pleasurable... You might enjoy mechanical touches and stimulation, to mention one thing, without becoming aroused by other persons.”

That makes me rise my eyebrows.

“That’s... I have never thought about that”, I say. “But _wait_ a second... Even then, I wouldn’t know where to touch you since — _well_.”

“Theoretically speaking, I could add extensions to my body which would allow you to try that. I could get a typical piece of cybergenitalia, for instance; on the other hand, we could approach the goal through less traditional methods...”

I admit, my mind goes on creating highly wild suggestions. Racter breaks my train of thought, though:

“In the end, such mechanical stimulations are about sending inputs to the brain... Data which the brain uses for creating the sensation of being touched, alongside other outputs — including an orgasm. Send your brain any kind of data, and it will try to make sense out of it...”

“... Are you saying... That you could touch yourself through triggering your brain directly?”

Oh dear. More tactless questions. I feel like a person walking through a field filled with hidden explosives ready to blow up whenever some poor soul steps on them... And I’ve already lost the count of my mistakes.

Racter doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“In fact, I could do that. All I need is my brain and the special implanted device. I possess the potential of controlling every aspect of my neurological wiring... Sexual simulations aren’t therefore impossible at all”, he says with an enviable lack of awkwardness. If I couldn’t hear his words and didn’t know the context, I’d guess that he is talking about designing circuit boards or something similar.

I give myself credit for skipping the question whether he has masturbated in that kind of a fashion. The mind image of him doing so is, however, extremely distracting. I shake my head, trying to shoo those fantasies away like pesky flies.

“... Would you consider experimenting with the aforementioned extensions?”

And just when I already congratulated myself!

Racter seems to notice my inner struggle — a mixture of shame and sexual tension — because I swear that his lips curl into a more wicked expression. He might even be telling me all this just to tease me. And Koschei — he hasn’t turned his gaze elsewhere in a long time now. Looking back at the drone makes me feel like a frail butterfly trapped in a spiderweb.

“Are you fascinated by the idea, my friend?” he asks, confirming my theories that he is, in fact, just messing with me. I’m so frustrated that I snap into a sitting position. The blanket falls onto my lap, leaving my chest bare for the view.

“One day, you _will_ drive me out of my mind, Racter”, I say, close to growling. Koschei’s body lowered for a moment when I poured out my irritation; who knows how close he was to attacking me right then. I’ll never know.

Racter steps up in a smooth movement and before I know it, he is already next to the bed; and he takes a hold of my hands and kisses them while looking at my eyes. Such a tender gesture, yet neither his gaze nor his smile has any warmth; I do not know whether I shiver because of the gentle touches or the imagined feeling of a cold wind breezing through an open window. It’s a strange sensation — his hands are so wonderfully warm.

“How can you be so sure that I haven’t done so already?” he asks, still holding my hands in his, and I turn all silent because I do not honestly even know anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: A reminder that if someone says that they are asexual and feel uncomfortable about sexual situations — their feelings should be respected. If you wish to be sexually intimate with your partner (which should also be respected), it is better to break up and seek someone else than to pressure.


	6. To Maintain

A drone lies on an operating table, disassembled like a vivisected animal. Working on mechanical entities is tidier than examining biological structures; it is also much easier to store detached components for later use. I’ve already found many interesting parts.

Those Mecanum wheels, however…

I would’ve finished the thought if you hadn’t stepped down right then. You halt when you notice that I’m working.

“Is this a good time?” you ask. There is something odd about your tone. Both of your hands are behind your back, and your shoulders are higher than usual: tension, nervousness – probably something else, as well. The vibe around you makes Koschei agitated.

Curious.

“Yes, my friend… It is a good time”, I say. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve told you that it is not and continued with cleaning my desk. Your unusual demeanor got me interested, though.

“What is it?”

“Well…” you trail off. And then you reveal your hands and a whip. “I wondered whether you would like to… Well.”

I admit that I didn’t expect this outcome. I look at the whip, pressed between your fingers as if you were holding a headless Mexican black kingsnake. The surface is dark but it shines under the dim lights of the workshop.

I take the whip from your hold.

“Are you suggesting that I’d use this on you, my friend?” I ask, glancing at the tool and then at you.

“Yes”, you say without looking at me. “Others aren’t on the ship currently, so there’s no-one who could hear it.”

“Ah, you have picked a convenient timing, as well. You have been thinking about this for some time now, then”, I say. “Are you really sure about this, though? You have never wanted anything like this before.”

A hesitating pause.

“There is always a first time to everything”, you reply.

“Indeed, there is always a first time to everything”, I say. After that, I test the whip: the long tail cuts the air with a sharp hiss, to hit the floor with a piercing smack.

The whip wasn’t nowhere near to you, but you twitched.

I shake my head.

“You are afraid, aren’t you? I’ve seen metahumans who have wanted this, and you are nothing like them… In fact, you give me an impression that you are a prisoner about to be punished; someone who would rather avoid pain than seek it voluntarily”, I say. “This isn’t about you wanting to experiment. No – this is about your brother, yes?”

You freeze at the suggestion.

“No – why would you –“ you blurt, and I strike the whip against the floor again, making you jump a meter up or so.

“There, you see”, I say. “It’s understandable that you found the separation heavy. You were the one who made the final decision… Which had its consequences on both of you. You feel regret but also a pressuring sensation of remorse… And it doesn’t help at all that you lost your foster father not too long time ago.” I take a pause. “Your suggestion stems from a desire to hurt yourself… In other words, this could be classified as malignant self-harm.”

You frown.

“Okay… When did you become someone who understands these kinds of feelings?” you ask slowly, skeptical.

“Ever since I heard you discuss with our ghoulish friend behind the corner. Even though my workshop can be loud, there have been plenty of times when I could hear you seeking emotional comfort from him. You do not need to possess empathy to use simple logic, my friend.”

“Oh.”

You go silent after that. I place the whip on the table, right next to the broken drone. I offer you a stool, and you sit down, clearly lost in thought.

“I do not understand”, you finally say.

“Hmm?”

“Why you wouldn’t use the opportunity. I mean, I saw how Koschei reacted when I showed you the whip… Don’t tell me that you didn’t feel any kind of temptation just a moment ago? Based on our earlier conversations, it’s clear that you wouldn’t pass the chance just because you care about me.”

Your observations are correct about Koschei’s behavior. There is a certain pleasure about inflicting pain on someone else, and I’ve placed that part of me into him – at least most of it, that is. When you showed the whip, I had to use conscious commands to restrict Koschei.

However, I’m also other things besides a predator and a sadist.

“It may be worth pointing out that I’m a rigger… A person who builds, maintains and fixes his tools and creations”, I say.

“Funny that you would say that”, you start. “When we are right next to a torn-up drone. Am I the same to you as that thing, in the end?”

I glance at the drone before returning my attention at you.

“While I may not be bonded with you on an emotional level – no, you aren’t like that drone. Living beings and inanimate entities have their own qualities: there is a reason why I’m cooperating with you and the others instead of drones. I also find it much more interesting to discuss with you than a rock.”

That manages to make you smile a bit.

“Should I take that as a compliment or not?” you comment.

“In fact, you could. I’ve had the displeasure of meeting some who lose even against a rock; you, on the other hand, are an obvious winner”, I reply. “As you can see, I also consider the varying attributes between different individuals... I am very selective about my social and professional contacts. You do not meet competent and talented individuals every day, and it requires effort to form alliances with them. Therefore: is it any wonder that I am interested in keeping you in one piece, both physically and mentally?”

The more I talk, the redder your cheeks become.

“Wow. This… Interaction took a completely different turn than I expected”, you say, after which your expression becomes slightly gloomy. “It seems like I suck at understanding others. I thought that you would be an easy case, but I’ve been wrong, apparently… Same could be said about my brother and father…”

You are close to crying, but you do not produce any tears in the end. Your mood has an impact on your breathing, though, and one can notice a small tremble going through your form.

“I… I’m sorry. I should go”, you say and stand up. Koschei blocks your way out of the workshop, and you turn to look at me, puzzled.

“Ah, my friend, I’m afraid that you shouldn’t be left alone currently. It is quite late, so I suggest that you’d stay over here through the night."

“You think that I might do something to myself”, you state.

“You requested me to use a whip on you just a moment ago. You might come up with something even more creative next. It would be difficult to force you to stay without potentially damaging you, however. Therefore, I ask you to answer this… Do you honestly believe that you would be safe without anyone monitoring you right now?”

“Yes–“ you start, but then you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. “No. No, I don’t.”

I nod.

“Let’s get you more comfortable clothes for the night, yes?”

“Yes… Let’s do so.”

Before we climb up the stairs to visit your room, I glance at my desk, the torn-up drone and its scattered parts.

Mechanical objects and biological creatures are indeed different – including the ways they are maintained.


End file.
